


Unjust

by Cap1942



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Dancing, During Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Forbidden Love, Hurt John, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Poor John, Poor Sherlock, Pre and Post Reichenbach, Romance, Sad, Secret Relationship, Slow Dancing, Victorian, Wedding Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap1942/pseuds/Cap1942
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They showed affection in stealthy advances as minimal as possible. The touches as simple as helping the other into the carriage, being able to lay a hand upon the others back and slightly gripping a hold of their clothes showing that they were protected. Or when the other would fetch the others pipe, handing it over gently with the opportunity to overlap and feel the sting in their yearning fingers. Or when they walked side by side down Baker Street intentionally swinging their palms a bit too far and having their shoulders a bit too cocked for a second of touch to make sure that their blood still pumped their hearts full of the sentiment that many thought was unjust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unjust

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a long time ago and made a few edits along the way. I feel like the story could continue and I would be happy to do so if requested! Hope you enjoy :)

They couldn't help the feeling that burned deeply inside them. Those feelings so passionate and forbidden in such trying times of judgement against how they lived and loved each other, and that forced them to do so in such secrecy.

 Although they could not publicly display their heated affection in such an open setting, their love for one another still flowered into devoted commitment no matter how much the world would try to prevent them.

They showed affection in stealthy advances as minimal as possible. The touches as simple as helping the other into the carriage, being able to lay a hand upon the others back and slightly gripping a hold of their clothes showing that they were protected. Or when the other would fetch the others pipe, handing it over gently with the opportunity to overlap and feel the sting in their yearning fingers. Or when they walked side by side down Baker Street intentionally swinging their palms a bit too far and having their shoulders a bit too cocked for a second of touch to make sure that their blood still pumped their hearts full of the sentiment that many thought was unjust.

 It was only when they were alone in the seclusion of their flat that they could be together as they pleased. In the pitch black of night without a being awake to hear the moans of what they really felt for each other. And to feel the heat of their skin when they touched and lay with tangled limbs and ruffled linen sheets. Panting with soft breathes hoping no one would catch them. They would lay close to each other with fingers interlaced and Watson's fingers raking slowly through Holmes's curly hair still stiff from hair gel but loose from the innocence of his carelessness.

 Watson would lay asleep in Holmes's bed until the dawn would break its way through the curtains forcing him to retire to his own quarters before Mrs. Hudson could see them together.

"Good night my love," Watson would say as he brushed Holmes's forehead and bent down to kiss his lips tenderly.

"Good night," Holmes would respond as he lays a hand upon his cheek and graces it down to his neck giving it a loving squeeze. Every night before Watson would leave Holmes's space he would silently apologize telling him that he was sorry that they couldn't be as they wanted. Loving and happy like when they spent nights in the same bed and for those few glorious hours when they were alone and they could be untouched from ridicule and shame as some would call it.

They would go on with their lives solving cases and jailing criminals like there were no feelings other than platonic. Suspicion arose and they were frightened but handled it well disposing of any theory anyone would drum up upon the subject of their relationship status. But in the most frightening aspect, it was true what they said. They were in love and it was like they knew something that they themselves couldn't believe.

It wasn't till the day of Holmes's Reichenbach Fall that all Watson's feelings seemed to dormant themselves in the back of his mind. Watson tried to believe that his beloved Holmes would return but his patience was wearing thin by each day. Without a silver of hope left to grasp he was forced to move on.

He thought his ex lover dead until the moment he returned alive and well after two years of grieving. Watson wanted to love Holmes again like he once had but things were different, he wasn't sure if he knew how to love him just the same as before.

Holmes knew he was instituting a lot of Watson to forgive him of all his wrongs and to love him the way he did once but he never dreamed of Watson having a life after Holmes had passed. He still loved him as much as he did the day he left but he feared his Watson never would again.

It was true Watson could never love Holmes as deeply as the past because he had honestly grown feelings for another through that harsh time of Holmes's lose. He knew Holmes still loved him but Watson was nearly sure he didn't love him the same.

Nevertheless, he still had a glimmer of feelings for him that would never leave the back of his mind. Even if he could find to love him fully again someday, how could he? They would never truly be together.

With a heavy heart Watson had given Holmes the news about his engagement to Mary Morstan and Holmes's heart completely broke in two. Perhaps it was suppose to be this way because their love could never come to light. Perhaps it was to be that there was no way of stopping such a day as dark as sin and so cruel as the world itself.

There was nothing they could do now. This was life, and they were just losing at it.

If Holmes couldn't have him, he was going to make sure that Watson's wedding would be seemingly simple if this was the aspect that was going to make him truly happy. That's all Holmes cared about in the long term of everything, it was Watson's happiness. But it sharply hurt Holmes's heart that he wasn't the cause of his happiness hence forth. What was the point of having a heart if his Watson didn't even want it anymore.

For a long while, a tense Holmes would wait eagerly and hopefully for his Watson to waltz through his door and take him to a destination where they could love as they pleased; but Watson hadn't stepped foot in 221B since his announcement. Not until one evening Watson strolled into the flat like nothing had ever changed, with a lightness to his walk so effortless and easy. Watson slipped off his coat putting it in the closet. Holmes watched closely deducing each graceful move as he blew smoke from his crafted pipe.

"Watson? And why, may I ask, are you here at this late hour?" Holmes asked standing up abruptly from his chair and not bothering to cease the music he was playing softly from his phonograph. 

Watson moistened his lips and suddenly his confident stride was broken from him, replaced with uncertainty, as if he had made a miscalculation. "Curious upon the subject of your whereabouts." Watson advanced largely towards Holmes eventually meeting him face to face. Holmes's stance was tense and he had a fine assumption on what Watson's true intentions were but he wanted to hear it clearly from the subject himself.

Watson put his hand on Holmes's shoulder and graced it delicately down his sleeved arm and stopped at his tense hand, hanging to his side. He had forgotten how strong Holmes was and how beautifully like silk his skin felt. He cleared his throat while he retreated from Holmes's brutal gaze. Holmes put one finger under Watson's chine beckoning their eyes to meet. "John, please. Why did you really come here?" 

Watson smelled how fantastic his scent was; something so familiar and yet so lost in memory. Watson clutched tightly onto Holmes's hand but then released it entirely. "I'm concerned for you and your health. I've neglected to see you in twenty days-"

"Twenty-one," Holmes corrected.

"Precisely," Watson agreed. "I worry and..miss you terribly." Watson looked up at him intently, hoping he didn't step over any boundaries he wasn't prepared to cross. Holmes smiled lovingly at his Watson, "and I you." Watson wasn't affirmative with the tricks Holmes had up his sleeve while the taller man began to touch him intently, slipping a smooth hand around his thinned waist. Holmes started to sway Watson in a dancing motion and Watson let him have his way with him. Soon they fell silent listening to the stings of the violins and the wind from the pipes of the music that filled the flat, playing for them a melancholy melody and found themselves dancing nimbly across the carpet. Watson stopped for a moment and looked up at his Holmes memorizing his face and rationalizing about how much time they had lost together and how easily he had forgotten what true happiness felt like.

Neither had said a word and yet all their actions spoke it all without even their faintest realization.

Holmes dipped him back and kept him in the flowing motion hoping Watson would feel the electricity that fueled his body at such a heated time as this.

 Watson licked his lips while looking into Holmes's kaleidoscopic eyes and holding his hand carefully in dim light on the drafty flat. He was aroused by everything that was happening at this moment. The delicate hand holding, the strong arm holding his back, and how close their lips were from touching and how much he wanted reunite them once again. The sentiment of his hidden love for his Holmes had returned in a full blaze of the passion he thought he forgotten. He had forgiven him in this moment for all the wrong and the sorrow that he had inflicted on him in just a matter of moments.

There was nothing left Watson could do now. He was trapped in the eternal bonds of a love for a man that he could sadly never be with. But then again he had vowed to remain my his side since the moment Holmes had deduced him.

Watson ran his hand slowly up the back of Holmes's neck and curled his fingers around it. Holmes let out a frustrated groan sensing his heart race at the feel of Watson touching his stiffened body. He leaned in closer hoping this was what Watson was intending to do. Intending to make his knees buckle before him and to send fiery sweat to dampen his soft shirt.

Watson leaned in closer with a bit of hesitation before he gave into the temptation that had pulled him back into the tangled and loving secret that was their relationship. The cold breeze that fluffed the curtains and filled the flat chilled their hot bodies drying their lips as they touched them together after waiting for so long.

Holmes hardly believed that he gave in. He closed his eyes and tasted the reviving sensation of Watson on his lips. After such hiatus he had never felt anything so quenching to his thirst.

Watson felt as Holmes felt and he knew he shouldn't. He was getting married in a matter of days but being in this state with Holmes made him wish he had bided a little longer.

They let go with Holmes still pursing his lips and leaning in for more. Watson gave him one more peck then lay a single hand upon his flushed cheek while Holmes laced his fingers around Watson's back and held him in close.

"God I've missed you Sherlock," Watson whispered, memorizing the eerie outline of Holmes's tall figure.

"It has been too long." Holmes wrapped his arms around Watson and lay his head upon his shoulder. Watson stroked the back of Holmes's neck and lay his lips on the divide between his shoulder and his neck.

They were unsure of what the next step was going to be. They were also scared that they wouldn't be able to express sentiment this easy and let alone be together, but for now they were to live in the moment and they were going to ventilate their rekindled love in any way they could.

Holmes took Watson by the hand and led him to his sleeping chambers where they would fall into bed together again embracing each other with all their withheld emotions frisk from verdict. Where they could be as they were, free to groan and gripe as they desired in the dark until their bodies went numb with the pain and pleasure from years of waiting to finally be touched by one another again.

 

***

 

The early morning of the wedding was a frigid one. Watson was awake not because of wedding jitters but because he would be able to see the one he truly loved.

Watson waited eagerly in the back room of the church pacing the floor with his hands in pockets of his jacket glaring down the door, for his Holmes was not present yet. Maybe it was a mistake asking him to be his best man at a wedding that would only bring him sorrow. How could he blame him? Watson didn't even want to be there himself.

"Little anxious are we, Watson?" Lestrade laughed with the other men in the room joining in.

"I need Holmes," Watson blurted out, not even giving the statement a second thought. "Be here he will," Lestrade retorted while taking a swig of the glass of whiskey that lay on the table.

Not a moment later Holmes swung open the double doors of the room strolling in with much swagger. A smile came across Watson's face, with also a sparkle of appease in his eyes as he licked his lips. Holmes smiled, "did you truly think I would abandon you?"

Watson laughed a small chuckle of relieve while running his hand across the flip of his hair.

"I need a moment alone with John Watson." Watson looked at Lestrade and nodded at him with a look of such an overwrought, it was then that Lestrade knew their secret but he wouldn't dare tell a single soul.

"Everybody out," Lestrade shouted leaving the two men alone. Once Holmes could see the door was completely closed he turned in John's direction with his pupils dilating. Watson sashayed over to Holmes grabbing him by the collar. "My God, look at you." Watson fixed Holmes's bow tie and pushed back the slight puff in his hair. "I was about to remark the same to you," Holmes said moving closer to his well dressed lover.

Holmes touched his forehead to Watson's letting out a shaky breath. Watson opened his mouth about to form a sentence but there was a knock at the door.

"It's time," Lestrade said from behind the door with pity in his voice. "Be out in a minute," Watson rebutted.

Holmes's knuckles turned white as he clenched onto John's collar. "It's time," Holmes said with avoidance of all eye contact. He never thought it would come to this again. He didn't believe that he would have the strength to lose him all over again. "Be strong," he said before his parted lips met Watson's. If he couldn't be strong he knew that Watson would make up for it with being undoubtedly brave. "Only for you my dearest Sherlock," Watson said as he savoured the final kiss he would share with his only true lover so deeply before he was no longer a bachelor.

He wasn't going to weep yet, this was not the time nor the place. He lay his palms under Holmes's looking down at Holmes's perfectly thin body. He looked into the taller man's eyes and kissed his hands one last time before he released them. Holmes pulled Watson with him as long as he could until Watson exited the room. Holmes felt his feeble stomach tie itself into a knot; torturing himself from the inside. He covered his mouth with his palm, disgusted by how easily he let him go.

Holmes stood to Watson's side in the ceremony as he watched Watson grip hands with another, making him weak and angry that there was nothing he could do. Watson fabricated a joyous smile the best he could but pain instilled itself in his eyes.

It was time for the vows. Watson took a deep breathe, "my dearest," he began to say before he stole a limited glance in Holmes's direction hoping that Holmes would understand that what he was about to express was all for him.

Holmes's heart dropped ten stories in his body, he knew what that wistful glance meant.

"The first glance you took at me made me fall deeply and I had never found myself to stay away." He took a pause hoping to hold all emotion. "Even when you neglected to be near me I never lost my love and hope that you would come back. And when you did, my heart never had rejoiced so rapidly." Watson couldn't control the unsteadiness of his legs or the sweat moistening his hands. "You have given more adventure in one lifetime than I had ever dreamed possible. I was so abandoned and so alone and I owe you my life." Watson choked up with the few words he had already said. "I will spend the rest of my life making up for my mistakes and will cherish you always, even if we can't be together."

Watson had tears in his eyes but he shed his tears for someone else. Holmes grabbed him by the shoulder as a sign of forgiveness. He grieved too with Watson's words driving through his heart like bitter poison.

"Do you take John Watson as your wedded husband?" The minster asked in which Mary agreed.

Watson bowed his head trying to restrain himself from making any more regretful decisions. He had already made too many. He had to keep reminding himself that this was for Holmes and how it was one of the best ways to protect him.

Holmes observed in agony as he watched Watson kiss that women. He broke down and looked away biting his lip in sheer misery. He hated and loved his Watson all at once. He hated him for the obvious reasons but loved him because he knew all of this wasn't true. Watson still loved him deeply and sacrificed himself for the good of their intimate affair.

The reception was a beclouded haze to both Holmes and Watson as they let their depression subdue them. Watson stood in interlocked arms with his new wife but all he could notice was Holmes and his beautiful being. It was too much for Watson to bare to not be with him. He walked over to his love and instructed him to join him outside.

They stood outside without a soul to accuse them. Holmes moved in on Watson and kissed his neck smoothly. Watson grabbed him by the hip and collided their bodies together as he caressed Holmes's face.

"I wish it were you. I wish life wasn't such a trial against people like us," Watson said scratching his fingers up Holmes's arm. Watson looked at Holmes and did something he had wanted to do since the day they first met eyes. He took the ring off his finger and took Holmes by the palm. With a shaky despairing grip he held the ring between his fingers and asked him the question that could never be.

Watson looked away and shook his head in hopes to compose himself. He took a deep breathe, "William Sherlock Scott Holmes, will you marry me?" He asked in the happiest tone he could muster.

Holmes's lip began to quiver and his eyes swelled pink with hopeless tears. "Of course I will."

Holmes barely released the words without a stutter. He lifted his finger straight for Watson to forever claim him as if he hadn't already. Watson tried to place the ring on Holmes's finger but alas it wouldn't fit. Watson scoffed and pulled away in pain, wiping his watered eyes on his sleeve. "Of course it doesn't fit," Watson said with anger and utter disbelief in his voice. He kicked the dirt on the ground trying to keep his temper under his thumb.

Holmes was silent as he turned away leaning his hand on the wall to catch his tired broken body while pinching the brim of his nose in stress and frustration.

Holmes grabbed Watson's hand and pulled his body close to his cradling John's head in his hand. Watson rubbed Holmes's back lovingly and kissed his lips. "I'm sorry," Watson said with a sniffle and water close to pouring over the brim of his eye lids.

"I too am sorry," Holmes said with a tear escaping his eye causing him to turn away hoping Watson wouldn't see him weep. They both looked down at the ring Holmes held in his hand. Holmes rested his head on Watson's shoulder while Watson adjusted his head to fit Holmes better and to be able to feel his head safely protected under his.

"Perhaps in another life," Holmes said with a sulk in his voice.

"Perhaps."

The men shuffled around in the dirt until Holmes wrapped his arms around Watson from behind, resting his chin upon Watson's shoulder. Watson cupped Holmes's hands under his own, affectionately rubbing his thumbs over the back of his hands. "Run away we should," Holmes said with low purr in Watson's ear.

"If we shall, you will never solve another case again."

"I am no Holmes without my Watson," Holmes said. Watson turned to him, "You know we mustn't, I married her to keep you safe." 

"Us, us safe. Must you always play by the rules Watson?" Holmes looked down at Watson trying to seduce him into pursuing his plan. 

"You really want to run away?" Watson inquired. Holmes looked away not providing him with a proper answer. Watson thought a little longer, maybe some laws were meant to be broken, and his love for Holmes was proof of that.

 

 


End file.
